A Legend of Tomorrow's Corona
by MarcvsVipsanivsAgrippa
Summary: King Frederick is on his deathbed, and Rapunzel has great plans for when she becomes Queen. But lo, how vain are human hopes before the order of the world; lo, how vain they are before the decrees that have been written in fiery signs upon the heavens by the Eternal... (Based on "A Legend of Old Egypt" by Bolesław Prus, vaguely AU)


_**Tangled **_**and**** _Tangled: The Series / Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure _are properties of The Walt Disney Company. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**Author's Note:** This work is inspired (and borrows extremely heavily from, even down to much of the narration and dialogue) from Bolesław Prus' short story "A Legend of Old Egypt". I apologize for its lack of originality.

This work is also based on a _Tangled _fanfiction I have wanted to write for some time, and for which I have some chapters written. Accordingly, there will be a lot of references to things, people, events, places, etc. that haven't occurred or been established in the canon of _Tangled, Tangled Ever After, Tangled: Before Ever After,_ and Tangled:_ The Series / Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure. _These things are the products of my own imagination and constructed narrative; that being said, I would still decline to call this an AU, though I understand that it might seem that like one.

Given that this is based on a _Tangled _fanfiction I would like to write, I would normally be leery about spoiling my own future work, but since I will probably never get around to writing, finishing, or publishing that fanfiction I really don't see why it should stop me from publishing this.

Finally, a lot of characters from the _Tangled _franchise (notably, the animals) are absent from this work. I apologize if that detracts from your ability to enjoy this work.

Without further ado:

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_**A Legend of Tomorrow's Corona**_

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Behold, how vain are human hopes before the order of the world; behold, how vain they are before the decrees that have been written in fiery signs upon the heavens by the Eternal!...

Frederick the Third, sixty-seven years old, the powerful King of Corona, was breathing his last. The chest of the mighty monarch who had quashed the dreams of a nation with a shake of his head and an order to his troops had taken ill with an agonizing sickness that squeezed the blood from his heart, leeched the strength from his arm, and at times even stole the consciousness from his mind. He lay like a fallen cedar upon his sickbed, which those around him feared would soon become his deathbed. Stern even in his enfeebled state, he summoned the court physician and said:

"I know that you possess powerful medicines that will either kill or cure me instantly. Find one that can treat my illness and bring it to me. I would rather have it end all at once – one way or the other – than have to endure being a prisoner in my own chambers and tortured by my own body. Let this end, once and for all."

The physician hesitated.

"Your Majesty," he said uneasily, "since your ascension to the throne Corona has known nearly half a century of prosperity and strength. Under your wise rule our country rebuilt from the devastation of the War of Liberation. In 1848, with your steady had on the tiller of the ship of state, we weathered the great revolutionary wave that swamped Gaulle and threatened to engulf so many other nations. I do not know if I could, in good conscience, risk your life, your continued leadership, and the future welfare of Corona by giving you a medicine that would be uncertain even for the strongest and healthiest of men."

Frederick, with great effort, sat up on his bed, propping himself on trembling arms.

"I must be very ill, Doctor," he growled, "if you dare to advise me on matters of state as well as matters of health! Kindly do as I bid."

The physician bowed and left the royal chambers to prepare his treatment. Queen Arianna and Nigel, the Royal Secretary, who had watched the exchange in silence from their seats by the warm, flickering fireplace, rose and approached the bed. Arianna leaned over her royal husband, taking his large but frail hand in her dainty but firm one.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Fred?" She asked softly. "If this medicine kills you…"

"I will be sorry to leave you, Arianna," Frederick murmured, his eyes restfully closed. "Should I be called from this life, I will miss you terribly, and I do – and will always – love you. But this agony is unbearable. To live like this is already to die. This treatment can restore my vigor, in which case you and I may celebrate together, or it can kill me. In either case it would end my misery, and for that I would give thanks to God."

Arianna could not bear to see her beloved husband in pain, and accepted her husband's wishes. But Nigel was unconvinced. "Perhaps Doctor Schönlein is right. If Your Majesty would hear my opinion, I think it would be wise of you to consider the country's interest. Perhaps you may yet recover, the sickness may go away on its own. Can you take this risky treatment, and leave Corona headless if it fails?"

"You forget Rapunzel," Frederick said reproachfully, opening his eyes to glare at his dutiful servant. "Only forty-four, and with many years ahead of her, God willing. I know we've had our differences recently, and I still can't accept…I can't…that…" His voice trailed off thoughtfully, sadly, and he closed his eyes again. Silence lingered for a moment and Nigel shifted awkwardly on his feet, giving Queen Arianna an apologetic look, before Frederick spoke again, softly.

"Fantasies, weakness, simplicity…none of it matters. Rapunzel must be Queen if I am gone. It is the way of things. And Corona cannot have a ruler who is unable to mount a horse and take to the field."

Nigel frowned, trying to grasp the idea of a woman – much less the Crown Princess – leading troops into battle, but his troubled thoughts were interrupted by the return of the court physician, who administered the medicine with a trembling hand. With Arianna's help, Frederick rose and drank it down as a thirsty man drinks a cup of water, and then fell back onto the bed, his eyes shut in exhaustion. His body began to shake, slightly but noticeably, and sweat coursed in rivulets through his gray hair and down the lines of his face, and soaked his bedclothes and bedsheets.

Arianna looked to the physician in alarm. "Should this be happening?" She asked, aghast at her husband's worsening state.

The court physician looked equally concerned. "I…well, there was always a risk of deterioration, Your Majesty, but I didn't think that it would manifest so strongly, so suddenly." His voice became grave. "Perhaps…perhaps he should not have taken the medicine." Unbidden, a thought occurred to him, although where it came from and what it meant he could not say: _Human plans are vain before the decrees that the Eternal writes upon the heavens_.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Frederick whispered, in a voice growing faint. "Now, we will wait and see what the Lord has planned. Conduct Rapunzel to the Great Hall and sit her upon the throne. Let her wait there for news; should I expire, crown her and deliver the Royal Seal to her at once, that there be not a moment's interruption in the exercise of royal power." He then fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Queen Arianna asked to alone with her husband as his body accepted the medicine, so the two men bowed and left the room, with the Queen promising to send for the physician if the King's condition changed. Before he left to carry out the King's instructions concerning the Crown Princess, Nigel asked the physician for his prognosis.

"I cannot say," he said. "Though the way he reacted to the medicine is not promising." He hesitated, before continuing, "You know, earlier today my deputy told me about something interesting he had heard on his way to the castle."

"What did he hear?" Nigel asked, wondering how hearsay from the street could possibly be relevant to the King's health.

"As he was riding through the city he told me he passed a fortune-teller who was telling a few children about the King's sickness. According to him, she said something about how Saturn had united with the Moon, and somehow that meant that a royal would die."

Nigel scorned superstition, but he felt the blood drain from his face nonetheless. "She foretold His Majesty's death?" He asked. "Did she say when it would happen?"

"Before sunrise, she said, either the King would be as hale as a horse, or the crown would be on the Crown Princess' head." He shrugged. "The ramblings of a huckster, I suppose. Yet, given how poorly he responded to the medicine, I fear to say that perhaps she might be right."

* * *

Rapunzel wept when Nigel broke the news of her father's treatment and the likelihood of his death, for she had a compassionate heart, and despite the hostility between her and her father that had emerged during the Revolution she nonetheless loved him deeply. But as there could be no interruption in the exercise of power, she dried her tears and went to the Great Hall, surrounded by a large crowd of courtiers. Yet she felt uneasy about sitting on the throne while her father yet lived, so she walked outside onto a balcony where, full of undefinable sadness, she surveyed the city beneath the castle.

The Moon, beside which Saturn glowed forebodingly, glided gently over the dark waters of the Suebic Sea, painting the shadow of Krönenberg Castle upon the city and illuminating the land beyond for miles. Momentarily, she wondered why they were in Krönenberg when the capital had already been moved back to Cöllin, but decided that it wasn't important and soon forgot about it as she looked down at the city and the castle gates.

Despite the late hour of the night, lamps still burned in buildings, and the people had come out of their homes, gathering at the foot of Krönenberg Hill and forming a procession which ran up the road that ran around the hill all the way to the castle gates. Boats filled the sea around the city, as thickly as on a holiday; in forests across the bridge on the mainland, along the water's edge, in marketplaces, in streets, and all around the castle there stood a countless throng, holding lamps and torches and bearing paper lanterns, the same kind that had captivated her when she lived in the Tower all those years ago, when they appeared on her birthday like a gift from the heavens and filled the night sky with light, outshining even the stars. Notwithstanding the teeming masses, there was at the same time such a silence that Rapunzel could hear the gentle lapping of the waves, and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

"Why are they gathering like this?" Rapunzel asked Nigel, who had followed her outside and was standing a respectful distance behind her. She gestured to the immense fields of people beneath them.

"They, like all of us, await news of your father, Your Royal Highness. Should your father depart from this life tonight, as – forgive me – it seems that he will, they wish also to greet you as the new Queen and to hear from you the benefits that you will bestow upon them."

"Hear from me?" For a moment anxiety – even fear – struck Rapunzel's heart, but as she pondered the rest of Nigel's sentence it was replaced by determination, a sense of mission, and, unbeknownst to her, the pride of greatness, which swept over her as the onrushing sea surges across a shore.

_Yes_, she thought. She earnestly, sincerely hoped that her father would not pass away tonight, and the thought of it filled her with grief and threatened to bring forth her tears once again. Yet everyone was saying that he would, and based on what Nigel had told her she had reluctantly been forced to agree. In the end, she knew, he would probably die, and there would be no way around it – she would just have to accept it and move on.

She would be Queen. She wished her succession were under better circumstances – that she and her father were on better terms, that he had called her to his bedside instead of sending her to the Great Hall, so that she might say her final farewell and hear his last words – but he had never forgiven her for 1848 and 1849, and she, in turn, had never forgiven him. Perhaps it was better this way. Better to grieve from afar than to trade final recriminations in person.

For a minute the coldness of that thought occurred to her, making her feel sick and extraordinarily guilty, but it soon evaporated as she considered what was going to come next. She would be Queen; after the bitter disappointment of 1848 and '49, and the years of reaction that followed, she would finally take the helm of the ship of state, and be the ruler she knew she could be, that she was destined to be. All her plans, her hopes, her dreams for her country, her people, her nation could finally be made real. The benefits she would bestow, to use Nigel's phrase, would remake Corona – and all Teutony – for the better. Her legacy as Queen would not be one of inertia, oppression, and absolutism, but of liberty and equality, of reason and progress, of unity and brotherhood.

Unlike her father, she would leave behind her a better world.

* * *

"What are those lights, over there?"

Nigel followed Rapunzel's outstretched finger to a church on the mainland, across the water. Previously it had been dark and unlit, but now a few dim lights shone in the cemetery, moving slowly, almost imperceptibly, before they disappeared as their bearers descended into a crypt.

Nigel recognized that church. "I suspect the Captain of the Guard and the court pastor have sent men to the grave of Lady Cassandra to prepare to transfer her remains to the royal crypt."

Rapunzel's heart was filled anew with grief, this time for her best friend, who had given her life to save her from a column of soldiers in the final, bloody days of the Revolution. For her friendship and for her sacrifice Rapunzel had wanted her to be honored with interment in the royal crypt, but her father, furious at the two of them for their support of the revolutionaries, had ordered her buried in the Captain's family crypt instead. The Captain, ever loyal, had made no objection, though Rapunzel knew it hurt him deeply for his daughter to be denied that privilege.

"I hear horses neighing," Rapunzel said, looking down into the courtyard, where cavalrymen of the Royal Guard were grooming and mounting their steeds. "Where are they going to go at this hour?"

Nigel cleared his throat. "I, ah, took the liberty, Your Royal Highness, of ordering messengers readied to ride to your teacher, Rosenthal, to lift his confinement."

Rapunzel sighed with a mixture of fondness and sorrow at the mention of her beloved friend and intellectual mentor, who had, among other things, had taught her histories of injustice and oppression, of empire and war, of progress, reason, and revolution. He had introduced her to and guided her through the work of that greatest of Coronan thinkers, Immanuel Kant, and taught her new understanding and respect for human dignity and liberty, aversion to war, and awareness of and compassion for the oppressed peoples of her country and the world. For instilling these things into the soul of his daughter and successor, her father, in the throes of counterrevolutionary reaction, had ordered that his law practice be closed and that Rosenthal himself be placed under house arrest and forbidden from corresponding with her. Still, the two had found ways of staying in touch at great risk to him, exchanging holiday greetings, thoughts on history, philosophy, and current affairs, and sometimes even the occasional gift.

In the distance, something caught Rapunzel's eye. "What's that light at the Frederick William the First Fort?"

"With that light, Your Royal Highness, I suspect His Serene Highness The Prince Fitzherbert is attempting to send his greetings to you from his confinement. The Captain and I have already sent men for him, and when the crown sits atop your head and the Royal Seal is in your hands the fortress door will open and he will return to you, longing and loving."

Rapunzel frowned, feeling the urge to ask more questions (_Why is Eugene in prison? Sure, he was a member of the revolutionary national parliament in Mannfurt, but didn't Dad spare him for my sake? And since when did Nigel talk like this?)_, but for some reason it seemed appropriate to remain silent.

Suddenly Rapunzel hissed in pain.

"Your Royal Highness, are you well?" Nigel asked, hurrying to her side.

"I'm fine," Rapunzel said, looking at her right foot. As usual, she wore no shoes, which allowed her to see the red bump beginning to form on her toe. "I think a bee stung me."

Nigel knelt to examine her toe. "Thank God," he said, "that it wasn't a spider. Their venom can be lethal this time of year."

At that moment Field Marshal Gustav von Deininger, the commander of the Army, came onto the balcony and came to attention, clicking his heels and alerting her to his presence. "Your Royal Highness," he said, bowing deeply.

Rapunzel looked up and acknowledged him with a curt nod. "Field Marshal," she said coolly. There was no love lost between the two; Deininger had been among those clamoring for the violent suppression of the Revolution, and it was his troops that had stormed the capital and killed Cassandra in the autumn of 1848. For his part, Deininger was proud of his conservatism and made no effort to hide his contempt for Rapunzel and her liberal tendencies.

Yet now he appeared entirely deferential, standing ramrod-straight with a grave look in his eye. "His Majesty has woken from his slumber, and he, Her Majesty The Queen, and the court physician believe he is not long for this world. He sent me to Your Royal Highness with the order: 'Go to Rapunzel, as my body begins to grow cold, and do her will as you have done mine. Though she command you to yield the left bank of the Rhine to the Gaulles, disband the Army, and end the occupation of Poslau, do so when she wears the crown and bears the Royal Seal, for the will of kings is the will of God.'"

Rapunzel, despite her dislike of both Deininger and her father's uncompromising absolutism, nonetheless had to smile. "Don't worry, Field Marshal," she said. "I'm not going to turn the Rhine to the Gaulles. Nor will I disband the Army. But I will reduce the term of conscription from three years to two, because I do hold dear the welfare of my people. Write a decree at once to that effect and send it to the War Ministry as soon as I mount the throne. And write a second decree to lift martial law in Poslau and order the troops there to their barracks; when the first cannon fires in my honor, deliver it to the telegraph office so that they might carry my favor to the Polonans. And," she added, "last but not least, write a third decree for the release of Eugene from imprisonment in the Frederick William the First Fort." She paused. "I have spoken."

Deininger bowed and withdrew to draft the orders. When he had gone, Rapunzel asked Nigel to take another look at her wound, which had grown increasingly painful.

"It seems your toe is beginning to swell," Nigel said. "Larger than I would expect from a bee sting…"

He was interrupted by the approach of the Minister President of Corona, Baron Theodor von Kameke. Rapunzel had mixed feelings about the man, who had drafted the sham "constitution" that had been "generously" granted by her father at the end of 1848, and who had subsequently led the charge to repeal the limited protections it had contained after the final defeat of the Revolution. Yet he was also a reformer who frequently butted heads with conservatives in the government, aristocracy, and gentry. Perhaps he was someone she could work with.

Kameke bowed to Rapunzel. "Your Royal Highness, I regret to report that His Majesty can barely open his eyes, and his vision is growing dim and unclear. He has sent me to you with the order: 'Go to Rapunzel and blindly carry out her will. Though she should order you to emancipate the Jews, grant independence to the Polonans, transfer ownership of the mines and factories to the workers, and break up the gentry estates and give the land to the people, you shall do so when you see the crown on her head and the Royal Seal in her hand, for monarchs rule by the grace of God.'"

"I won't go _that _far," Rapunzel said. Again she smiled at how earnestly these men were presenting her with policies she knew they hated. "But I will do this: write a decree at once, that the people's taxes be reduced by a third, that the nobility and gentry's legal privileges and tax exemptions be eliminated, that the workers shall work no longer than eight hours per day and have two days free from labor, and that the three-class franchise be abolished and replaced by proportional representation with equal suffrage for all men _and _women. And write another decree granting the Jews equal rights as well, and one releasing from house arrest my teacher, Nathaniel Rosenthal, who is the wisest and noblest of Coronans." She paused again, though she couldn't say why. "I have spoken."

The Minister President bowed, but before he could leave to draft the decrees the President of the Evangelical Supreme Ecclesiastical Council, the head of the executive body of the Evangelical State Church, entered and bowed.

"Your Royal Highness," he said, "any moment now His Majesty will depart to the kingdom of Heaven, and his immortal soul will be judged by the Almighty Himself. And when the crown rests on your head and the Royal Seal is in your hands, order and I shall obey you though you were to abolish the State Church, for I acknowledge and submit to the divine right of kings."

"I will not abolish the State Church," Rapunzel said, amused yet again. "I would rather fund the construction of new Churches and increase the Church treasury on the whole. I ask only that you write a decree for the Church to end its involvement in the public schools and universities, and another for the solemn transfer of my friend Cassandra's remains to the royal crypt." She paused. "I have spoken."

"You order wisely, Your Royal Highness," replied the President – a little begrudgingly, Rapunzel noted. "All is in readiness to fulfill these orders, and presently I shall write the decrees; when you sign your name and stamp them with the Royal Seal I shall announce your favor to the people and give instructions to exhume and reinter Cassandra, and deliver your freedom and love to His Serene Highness."

Then entered the court physician.

"Your Royal Highness," he said in concern, "you look unwell. I hope you will be fit enough to assume the throne, for His Majesty, your royal father, is breathing his last. He could not stand the power of the medicine that I was loath to administer to him, this great king of our time. Therefore only Her Majesty and my deputy remain with him, the latter in order, when he passes, to deliver the crown and Royal Seal to you in token of the unlimited power of the state." He paused. "Your Royal Highness, you grow paler and paler. Are you well?"

"Look at my foot," moaned Rapunzel, who began to sway on her feet. Nigel steadied her and guided her indoors to the throne, where she unceremoniously fell onto the plush upholstery, her posture slumping down and back into a messy slouch.

The physician knelt, examined the leg, and looked up in disbelief.

"Your Royal Highness," he whispered, "you have been bitten by a very poisonous spider."

Rapunzel stared at the man in shock mixed with agonizing pain. "Am I going to die?" She breathed, crestfallen and afraid. "Now? At a time like this?"

_How did this happen? _She thought. _Just moments ago I was about to laugh at the Field Marshal, the Minister President, the President of the Church Council. And now I'm going to die? But all my plans…everything I was going to do…_

Rapunzel took a deep breath. "How long do I have? Tell me the truth."

The physician shook his head regretfully. "Given the severity of the swelling, the beginning of necrosis, the presence of systemic symptoms…perhaps an hour, Your Royal Highness."

Rapunzel's eyes widened before she closed them with great effort, choking back a cry of frustration, fear, and grief. When she had composed herself, she asked, "Has my father long to live?"

"I don't know. Perhaps…perhaps they are bringing you the crown and seal right now."

At that moment the ministers entered with ready decrees.

"Field Marshal!" Rapunzel cried, grabbing his arm, for he was the first to reach her. "If I were to die right now, would you all carry out my orders?"

"Long life to you, Your Royal Highness! Live to your father's age and beyond!" He replied, though Rapunzel couldn't tell if he was being sincere. "But even if you were to step before God's judgment right after him, your every decree will be carried out, so long as you sign them and stamp them with the royal seal."

"A pen!" Rapunzel exclaimed. "Bring me a pen! And the seal – where is it?"

"One of the courtiers was telling me," whispered Deininger, "that His Majesty was drawing his last breath."

"My deputy has instructions," added the court physician, "to immediately take the crown and royal seal when His Majesty's heart stops beating."

"Thank you all!" Said Rapunzel, as Nigel appeared with a stool, on which he set a pen, inkwell, and a candle holder with a lit candle of sealing wax and on which the ministers set their decrees. "It's a pity…oh, what a pity…But it won't be for nothing, I won't die completely…I'll leave blessings, freedom, equality, fairness, the people's welfare…and Eugene, Eugene will be free again…How long?" She asked the physician.

"I don't know," the physician said sadly. "Perhaps…fifty minutes or so, Your Royal Highness."

"Do you hear anybody coming?" Rapunzel asked.

No one spoke.

Forty minutes passed. Outside the people had released their floating lanterns, which streamed in the sky outside the window in an ascending, unending procession.

"How long?" Whispered Rapunzel.

"Perhaps ten minutes, Your Royal Highness," replied the court physician, checking his pocket watch. "I…I don't know whether you'll have time to sign and stamp all the decrees with the Royal Seal, even were it brought to you right now."

"Give me the decrees," said Rapunzel, listening closely to see whether anyone was running towards the Great Hall from her father's chambers. "And you," she said, turning back to the physician, "tell me how much time I have, so that I can confirm at least the orders dearest to me."

"Nine minutes," whispered the physician.

The decree secularizing the schools and universities fell from Rapunzel's hands to the floor.

"Eight minutes."

The decrees reducing the term of conscription and lifting martial law in Poslau slipped from Rapunzel's lap.

"Isn't anyone coming?"

"Six minutes."

Rapunzel became thoughtful, and the decree transferring Cassandra's remains fell.

"Four…"

The same fate met the decree freeing Rosenthal from house arrest.

"Two…"

Rapunzel's lips turned livid. With a choked cry of despair she flung into the air the decree emancipating the Jews and the decree reducing the people's taxes, limiting the workers' labor, eliminating the nobility and gentry's privileges, and liberalizing the electoral system, and held on only to the order to free Eugene.

"One."

Amid the funereal silence, a clatter of footsteps was heard. Into the hall ran the court physician's deputy. Rapunzel lifted her hand.

"A miracle!" The deputy cried. "His Majesty has recovered. He rose briskly from his bed and wishes to breakfast at sunrise. And as a sign of his favor and forgiveness, Your Royal Highness, he invites you to join him."

Rapunzel looked with failing eye out the window to the mainland, where shone the light in Frederick William the First Fort, and two bloody tears rolled down her face.

"What shall I tell His Majesty, Your Royal Highness?" Asked the deputy in surprise.

"Don't you see she's dead?" Whispered the court physician.

Behold, human hopes are vain before the decrees that the Eternal writes in fiery signs on the heavens.

* * *

Rapunzel awoke with a start, a sheen of cold sweat clinging to her skin…


End file.
